


Set Me Free

by Crazy_Dumpling



Category: Super Junior
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Rock Stars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-18
Updated: 2013-03-18
Packaged: 2017-12-05 17:08:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/725752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazy_Dumpling/pseuds/Crazy_Dumpling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyuhyun is a lawyer who thinks he’s nothing special. Jongwoon is a rockstar, who spots him in the crowd. This is what happens next.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Set Me Free

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Kyusung Central](http://www.asianfanfics.com/profile/view/324562)'s Fluff Fest, for Happie's prompt:
> 
> _I wanted something were Kyuhyun is sweet and kind, the goody two shoes nerdy guy and Jongwoon's the crazy musician with a knack for the different. Jongwoon's the 'evil' now and he 'teaches' Kyuhyun how to be different and free._

Kyuhyun doesn’t know why he’s here. This was a stupid idea and he’s an idiot for agreeing to it in the first place. He’s finally been promoted to junior partner at his law firm and his mother took that as her cue to start pestering him about finding a nice young lady to fall in love with and produce grandchildren for her to spoil. Since Kyuhyun is apparently incapable of doing that on his own, she took it on herself to introduce him to her cousin’s best friend’s neighbour’s daughter, a pretty, quiet girl named Minjung.

“Go out and have fun!” Kyuhyun’s mother told him when he’d gone home for dinner last week. She pushed an envelope at him. “Minjung loves this singer, apparently he’s very popular on the charts right now. I’ve never heard of him. You young people and your music; I can’t keep up! Anyway, your sister managed to get you two tickets for his concert next week. VIP seats! I’m not sure how Ahra arranged it, and you should be thankful that we’re all trying to help you out here, Kyuhyun. Take the girl to dinner and then to the concert afterwards, huh? We’re getting old, son. Time to give me some descendants.”

“Yes,” Kyuhyun had mumbled. Anything to keep his mother quiet. He would give Minjung three dates at the most, and then beg off seeing her again, citing work. 

It isn’t that Kyuhyun is averse to the idea of dating, per se, but he’s just got so much going on with his life that the whole idea of domesticity is, frankly, frightening. Kyuhyun’s only just got his life in order. It seems ridiculous to tie himself down when everything he’s planned since he was young has only just started to fall into place.

He pocketed the tickets after glancing at the singer’s name. Kim Jongwoon. Huh. The name rang a vague bell, but he couldn’t put a face to it. Later googling turned up several badly designed fan websites that had Kim Jongwoon’s face plastered all over them, but Kyuhyun couldn’t see anything more about the singer that made him more interesting other than just being a pretty face. Kyuhyun didn’t bother to watch the guy’s music videos. Chart music has always bored him, being much too mass produced and autotuned, he’s much more of a jazz man, addicted to smooth melodies and voices laced with smoke and pain.

(Never mind that Kim Jongwoon is the most handsome man — photoshopped celebrity or not — who Kyuhyun’s laid eyes on in a long time. Kyuhyun reasons that Kim Jongwoon probably doesn’t look quite so good in person. He’s got a whole team of stylists whose job it is to make him look flawless, for God’s sake.)

Which is how he’s ended up here, trying to keep upright in a sea of cheering fans all chanting Kim Jongwoon’s name and holding up huge signs that look as though they might smash into Kyuhyun’s head at any moment. Minjung looks just as enraptured as the rest of the crowd, screaming out when Jongwoon finally takes the stage and starts singing one of his popular ballads while the fans surge forward in a collective wave. Kyuhyun gives up trying to be polite and curses when a lady in stilettos steps on his foot.

He really doesn’t know why he lets his mother talk him into these things. Minjung is pretty and pleasant enough, but definitely not worth a crushed foot. Hell, she wasn’t even that impressed when he started telling her about his Starcraft addiction and how he’s won several amateur league titles with his team. Instead, she spent most of the time on their subway ride here telling Kyuhyun how much she loves Kim Jongwoon’s music. 

“His voice, it’s _amazing_ , Kyuhyun-ssi! Like, the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard! And he’s got all these weird little quirks and it’s _so_ adorable. Did I tell you he keeps these weird land tortoises and gives them all weird names because he gets lonely? Isn’t that just so cute?? It’s a miracle you got these tickets, I’ve been trying to buy them on Gmarket for months! Didn’t you hear how the concert was sold out in just one minute? But Jongwoon-ssi says he wants to repay all his fans for sticking with him for so long, especially when we waited for him to finish his military service. He’s _so_ gracious like that…”

Minjung had gone on (for quite a long time), and Kyuhyun had zoned out when she’d started listing her ten favourite Kim Jongwoon songs. Now, minding the crowd around them, he stands behind Minjung and makes sure she doesn’t get squashed by overenthusiastic fangirls while trying to hide the scowl on his face when he gets elbowed in the ribs by a excited man with an obnoxiously large camera. Kyuhyun’s so busy minding everyone around him that he barely registers when the tone of the music changes.

After several cheesy love songs, Kim Jongwoon decides to get all sensual. His backing band is stripped back to a lone pianist who looks half-elfin and wears a sparkly grey blazer and plays a melody that sounds to Kyuhyun like it’s straight out of some seedy jazz bar in a disreputable street. Then, the mournful wail of saxophone joins in, accompanied by a slow, hypnotic drumbeat. Jongwoon strides around the stage, sending the audience seated in different sections of the arena into hysterics before moving to the centre of the stage and smirking.

He growls into the microphone and the audience goes crazy. Kyuhyun wants to yell at them to shut up, because the music that is playing right now sounds far more promising than the radio-friendly rot he’s been forced to listen to for the last half hour. This time, Kim Jongwoon actually sounds like the kind of singer Kyuhyun wants to pay attention to.

Then he starts to sing, and Kyuhyun’s mouth drops open. 

_Shit._ He thinks, because Kim Jongwoon is singing a slow, slinky number about wanting to know someone from the inside out and there’s this glint in his eyes that makes Kyuhyun feel as though he’s being mesmerised, even though he’s just one face is a crowd of faces. This is how Kim Jongwoon does it, he thinks, he gets audience members to believe that he’s singing for them alone.

If nothing else, Kyuhyun is impressed by the skill Kim Jongwoon wields. He’s never been so thoroughly charmed before. Like everyone else around him, he starts swaying to the beat of the music, finds himself nodding along, even though he knows he’ll deny it tomorrow morning when he’s alone at home. Right now, though, he gets lost in the experience, allowing Kim Jongwoon’s smokey voice to wash over him with all of its black magic, tries to ignore the slightly fluttery feeling in the bottom of his stomach.

“Oh my God!” Someone behind Kyuhyun screams. Confused, he looks up and sees Kim Jongwoon walking towards the VIP section. Up close, Kyuhyun can’t help noticing that the singer is a lot more good-looking than the photographs he saw on the web. 

Much better looking.

And, for some reason, he’s bearing down on Kyuhyun with a strange, determined look in his eyes. Kim Jongwoon, Kyuhyun can’t help noticing, has wonderfully thick hair that looks as though a stylist tried running her comb through it but gave up after a few minutes. Dyed a dark red, it falls into Jongwoon’s eyes, which have been thickly rimmed with kohl. The singer’s lips are luscious and red and as Kyuhyun watches, mesmerised by way he moves around the stage so confidently, Kim Jongwoon glances in his direction, winks and bites his full bottom lip.

No, he must be imagining it. There are _thousands_ of people here. Why should Kyuhyun stand out? Apart from being the only man in his section who isn’t screaming or holding up a sign proclaiming his undying love for Kim Jongwoon, Kyuhyun is sure he’s pretty anonymous.

Around him, the screeching grows deafening as Kim Jongwoon reaches into himself and howls out an impressively controlled vibrato wail. He has the audience in the palm of his hand, and Jongwoon knows it, slowly building up to the finale of the song, which he ends with a growl that manages to sound simultaneously tragic and sexual.

If Kyuhyun was seriously beginning to question his determination _not_ to get sucked in, he’s pretty sure he’s failed by now. Kim Jongwoon swigs at a bottle of mineral water before asking the crowd how they’re feeling tonight and launching straight into another sultry ballad about finding the one he’s looking for, by the end of which Kyuhyun has to admit that he’s slavering for the next song, just like every other sucker in the building. 

So much for being adamantly against any type of popular music. Kyuhyun tells himself that he’s really only here because he’s making his mother happy by going out on a date with Minjung. This attitude is hard to maintain when Kim Jongwoon spends the rest of the concert conscientiously moving towards Kyuhyun’s section every chance he gets. Maybe, Kyuhyun thinks, there’s a really good fan sign being held up somewhere that Kim Jongwoon likes. Or perhaps there’s a really pretty girl who just happened to catch Kim Jongwoon’s eye.

It’s definitely not him. Kyuhyun knows these things. He’s always prided himself on his excellent observational skills. Nothing gets past him.

Which is why, when Minjung and Kyuhyun are accosted by security guards after the concert ends (Kim Jongwoon finishes the concert with a heartfelt rendition of one of his signature ballads about long lost loves that doesn’t quite have the same kind of magic his jazz numbers held for Kyuhyun), Kyuhyun is so surprised he doesn’t protest when they shove him down a series of winding corridors and mutter into their walkie-talkies.

“Uh,” he says, after one guard pushes them a bit roughly to hurry them along and Minjung whimpers. “This possibly would be a good time to let you know that I’m a lawyer, right? It’d be nice if you guys told us where we’re going and _why_. We were just here for the concert.” 

One of the guards laughs. “He wants to know why he’s being given the VIP treatment!”

Someone else snorts. “For a lawyer, he’s not very quick!”

“Wouldn’t want him defending my next drink driving charge.”

With as much dignity as he can manage, Kyuhyun stands up straight. “I am a junior partner at a very well-respected conveyancing firm. But I can assure you that I am more than able of getting involved in a litigation suit!”

“Save it for the boss, kid.” They finally reach a backstage area with an ominous looking set of steel double-doors. The tall guard taps out several staccato beats on the doors before pushing them open and ushering Kyuhyun and Minjung through.

Kyuhyun tries not to gawp. Behind him, Minjung muffles a gasp with her hands.

“Hello,” Kim Jongwoon says. He’s seated on a plush white leather sofa and has a glass of whiskey in one hand, leather-clad legs stretched out in front of him. “I was hoping we’d find you.”

They’re standing in his dressing room, Kyuhyun realises with a start. It’s huge; nearly double the size of Kyuhyun’s loft. Two massive tables in the centre of the room are brimming with takeout containers and bottles of soju and there’s a dry tank in a corner where two land tortoises amble about under the glare of heat lamps. An entourage of hangers-on and some guy on a mobile phone Kyuhyun assumes is Jongwoon’s manager hover near Jongwoon’s sofa. They’re all talking amongst themselves and Kyuhyun spots a gangly man with unnaturally long legs eyeing him up for a minute before he loses interest and turns back to a glamourous-looking woman who gives Kyuhyun a semi-interested once-over.

“Oh, Kim Jongwoon-ssi! I’m a huge fan!” Minjung squeals. She’s bouncing on her toes and she looks as though she’s been told she just won the lottery. Kyuhyun snorts mentally and decides that _he_ won’t be so easily impressed. “I’ve bought all your albums and concert DVDs, even that limited edition photobook you did! I think you’re _amazing_.”

“You got hold of the nude photobook?” Jongwoon sounds impressed. “Wow, you must have been one of the lucky few; I heard they were sold out in an hour. My manager keeps saying I should do another one, but I’ve been too busy recording stuff for the album. Plus, you know. I’m getting old. Skin starts to sag past a certain age. Wouldn’t want that being immortalised in print! Just kidding: I’m glad you enjoyed the show.”

For a moment, Kyuhyun thinks he might actually facepalm in public — what kind of super famous rockstar says such things? And wait, what? A nude photobook? No wonder the guy’s name sounds so familiar. His best friend Ryeowook has been wanting a copy for ages — before Jongwoon shifts his attention to Kyuhyun. 

“Ah, there you are. My fanboy!” He lifts the whisky glass in a toast. “My security guy is furious because I asked him to find you for me… I saw you down in the VIP mosh pit. You looked like you were having fun. What’s your name?”

Is he joking? Kyuhyun’s sure he spent most of the concert wincing because the people around him were screaming directly into his ears. He chances a glance at Kim Jongwoon and is astonished by the interest in the other man’s expression. Suddenly he doesn’t know where to put his hands, so he crosses them in front of his body protectively. “Cho Kyuhyun. Uh, I was just accompanying my friend here to the concert since she likes your music. You, uh, you sing well, Jongwoon-ssi.”

Jongwoon waves his half-hearted compliment away impatiently. “Yes, of course I do. That’s not the point.”

It isn’t? Kyuhyun’s having trouble understanding why he’s here in the first place. He shifts uncomfortably under Jongwoon’s gaze, his mind throwing up several possibilities for why he’s been summoned here, all of them ludicrous.

“You’re cute.” Kim Jongwoon says suddenly, breaking the train of Kyuhyun’s thoughts. He smiles, and like a fool, Kyuhyun finds himself grinning back. “So, Cho Kyuhyun, would you like to go out with me some time?”

Kyuhyun registers several gasps from Jongwoon’s entourage, a muffled curse from his manager, and Minjung’s shriek of disbelief at Jongwoon’s pronouncement. His eyes, however, don’t leave Jongwoon’s for a moment.

_Oh,_ the calm, rational part of his brain says, _I think he’s actually being serious about this._

Then, he thinks, _I am so screwed._

***

“Kyu! Have dinner with me tonight!” Jongwoon demands, when Kyuhyun picks up his phone.

It’s a week and a half later and Kyuhyun still can’t understand how he handed over his mobile number to a rockstar. He also doesn’t get how Jongwoon can afford to keep texting and calling him at ridiculous hours, since he’s supposed to be promoting his new album and Asian tour. Apparently this hasn’t stopped him from bugging Kyuhyun with phone calls and sending him the most random assortment of photographs and self-portraits at odd times of the day. Kyuhyun has learnt a lot about Jongwoon’s slightly strange fashion sense, his odder assortment of pets, and his strange fixation with Kyuhyun. He’s been asking Kyuhyun out every night.

Unlike Jongwoon, however, Kyuhyun is a professional, with a stable (slightly boring) job and a mortgage to pay off. Also, his mother was furious when he told her what happened with Minjung and has declared that she despairs of him ever getting married.

(Funnily enough, Minjung wasn’t angry about the way things turned out. She confessed she’d found that their personalities were incompatible, which Kyuhyun thinks is her way of saying she found him a complete bore. She has, however, asked him to get her another autograph from Kim Jongwoon the next time Kyuhyun goes out with him, as though they were in a relationship already. Kyuhyun tried not to roll his eyes when he heard the request.)

“I have to work late, Jongwoon-ssi,” Kyuhyun protests. “I’m supposed to prepare some paperwork for a client we’re meeting with tomorrow. And then I have to help out with the settlement of another client’s mother’s estate. Plus, I have — ”

“You know, most people would be insanely flattered that I was chasing them so hard.” Jongwoon has no problem with interrupting Kyuhyun mid-sentence. Kyuhyun has learnt that about him as well. “So shut up and just let me take you out for dinner, huh? One night off won’t kill you. And I know you’ve been working on those cases for the past five nights because that’s the same excuse you’ve been using. Meet me in Hongdae at eight, I’ll text you the name of this barbecue place I know. If I don’t see you there, I’m coming down to your office myself.” 

Kyuhyun knows he should refuse right now, and tell Jongwoon he’s just not that interested. But somehow the words refuse to leave his mouth. He’s not sure what this means, other than the fact that he’s apparently a sucker when it comes to weird rockstars with husky voices. The thing is, he’d really like to see Jongwoon again. Their last meeting was overshadowed by the chaos caused when Jongwoon asked Kyuhyun out. Kyuhyun’s never seen a whole group of people shocked into silence quite so effectively before.

(He’s also bought and listened to all of Jongwoon’s five albums. Kyuhyun’s also got a whole Kim Jongwoon playlist on his MP3 player, which he tries not to think about. Bad enough that he’s bought mainstream music for the first time since he was fifteen.)

“Fine,” he grumbles down the phone. He doesn’t even know why he’s agreeing to this. “But if I get into trouble with my boss for taking the night off, you’ll have to help me finish this paperwork.”

***

The bar in Hongdae is surrounded by Jongwoon’s fans when Kyuhyun arrives thirty minutes later in a taxi. He sighs at the crowd and wonders (for the fiftieth time since he got out of the office) why he’s here. Fighting through the horde with his most unpleasant face on, Kyuhyun finally manages to reach the doormen. They glare at him through dark sunglasses, which Kyuhyun thinks is stupid since it’s night-time and just makes them look like pretentious idiots. But he’s got to get inside, otherwise the trip down here would’ve been wasted.

“I’m here to see Kim Jongwoon-ssi,” he says. Grimaces when they look him up and down, size him up to see if he’s a particularly foolhardy fan. “Look, he told me to tell you I’m on the list, OK? My name’s Cho Kyuhyun. You can check.”

He holds his breath while they fumble through a clipboard and attempt to look at a scribbled list of names through their stupid dark glasses. Kyuhyun tries not to think about the work he’s left at the office, or the fans pointing at him and whispering as though he’s not standing right in front of them.

Eventually, after another agonising few minutes, he gets waved through. Kyuhyun curses and pushes open the heavy wooden doors, glad to get out of the humid night and into the bar, away from the curious glances of the fans. He spots Jongwoon nursing a beer at the open bar, manages to fumble his way through the darkened interior, nearly tripping over several scattered footstools on his way there.

Not that he’s trying to look cool and collected for Jongwoon’s sake. Not at all. Kyuhyun also decides he’s definitely not interested in the way Jongwoon’s jeans wrap themselves around his thighs, and he’s not staring at how Jongwoon’s t-shirt emphasises the toned muscles of his arms. Jongwoon’s hair is a mess, as usual, and his eyes are still lined with kohl, but he looks a lot more approachable like this. More like the kind of guy Kyuhyun wouldn’t have any problems hitting on at the bar.

Oh, who’s he trying to fool. Cho Kyuhyun has never tried picking _anyone_ up at a bar, much less world-famous rockstars.

“Did you get in all right?” Jongwoon asks, before Kyuhyun can say anything. “I think a few of the fans followed me here from my last variety show recording. They’re really tenacious, huh? I’ve seen one who looks as though she’s not been home for about five days. She’s still wearing the same outfit.”

“I’m fine,” Kyuhyun snaps. He studies the menu on the bar counter briefly before deciding this whole idea was a waste of time. “I think I’ll just have some soju and get back to the office, though. I mean, it’s nice of you to invite me out like this, but I think it’s going to take me double the time to get back because those fans would probably scare off all the taxi drivers.”

Jongwoon growls at him, and Kyuhyun tells himself that the sound of it _didn’t_ just send a shiver of excitement down his spine.

“Well, I’ve been recording shows for the past ten hours, Kyuhyun-ssi. And I’m so tired I think I might collapse when I walk out of here, but I wanted to see you. Now, you’ve been feeding me the same tired excuse every time I’ve asked you out, so I don’t buy this story that you’re trying to sell me about being such a dedicated workaholic. Even if that’s the case, I think you seriously need to adjust your priorities. You are having a meal with me, and I want to talk to you. There’s nothing stopping you leaving, but come on. Don’t you ever try being a bit naughty, huh?”

Kyuhyun is taken aback by this question. Taken aback, and a little irritated. Apart from being the sort of rockstar who sells out concerts in a minute, who the hell is Kim Jongwoon, and what right does he have questioning Kyuhyun’s lack of a social life?

“No,” he says stiffly, aware of how much of a loser he must sound. “Plenty of people at my firm slack off already, and I don’t want to end up like them; they think they can finish their work an hour before it’s due without anyone calling them on their bullshit. Not me. I work overtime so I don’t have to pull all-nighters.”

Jongwoon sits back and regards Kyuhyun with his inscrutable dark eyes. The music thumps a hypnotic tempo around them, thick double-glazed glass drowning out the squealing fans outside. Kyuhyun doesn’t know what he’s said, but apparently it makes Jongwoon snort and call the bartender over.

“You put in overtime to save yourself all-nighters?! Do you even hear yourself talking?” Without waiting for an answer, Jongwoon picks up the menu. “I’m getting us dinner, Cho Kyuhyun. I think you need someone to show you the benefits of breaking the rules sometime. Also, you look like you’re in real need of a drink. I don’t blame you, not with that lot outside.”

Kyuhyun opens his mouth to remind Jongwoon that they all can’t be rockstars and be chased around by crazed groupies, but then he recalls that Jongwoon has been working for longer than he has and decides against it. He’s not an asshole, after all. And the barbecued ribs that Jongwoon orders are sort of delicious. So’s the soju, actually.

Even though they’ve been messaging each other for the past week, Kyuhyun is still finding it hard to reconcile the image of Jongwoon the rockstar with Jongwoon the slightly odd guy who likes to talk for hours on end about the latest movie he watched (although Kyuhyun can’t keep up when Jongwoon goes on about Stanley Kubrick’s aesthetic vision and the problem with the French New Wave). When they’re seated here, though, Kyuhyun thinks none of that really matters. They’re just two people trying to learn more about each other. So they swap stories about growing up, what food they like to order at two in the morning, whether Real Madrid is in with a chance at the UEFA championships (Kyuhyun says no, but Jongwoon is adamant that Real have a realistic chance if Bayern Munich doesn’t get in their way). 

Their conversation flows naturally, with no awkward pauses, except when Jongwoon picks up his glass to drink and Kyuhyun finds himself staring a bit longer than he expects. He coughs and looks down at his plate, rearranges his knife and fork. Looks back up to see Jongwoon smiling this really dopey smile at him.

“What?” He asks, suddenly afraid that he might blurt out something really embarrassing. “Do I have food in my teeth?”

“No.” Jongwoon laughs. “You were saying that you were in a band in high school, right? I was wondering why you never continued with it. If they picked you for lead singer they must have thought you had the talent.”

Kyuhyun colours. He doesn’t like to think too much about his failed ambition to make it as a musician. Anyway, it’s not like he ever really planned to go into show business seriously. It was more of an idle fantasy, something to keep him going through the daily grind of learning.

“Ah, it wasn’t that exciting.” He reaches out and tops up Jongwoon’s glass. “We just jammed after class before we had to go to cram school, you know. Played a few gigs, nothing very exciting, though. My father said I couldn’t really do it seriously when I got into university, so I decided to give it up.”

“That’s a damn shame,” Jongwoon states, without a hint of mockery. He refills Kyuhyun’s glass in return and gestures for him to continue.

“Not really,” Kyuhyun picks his next words carefully. Nostalgia for his more carefree days is dangerous; it pulls him away from his current situation and responsibilities. Cho Kyuhyun does not dwell on might-have-beens. “I don’t think I had the talent to make it my career. Not all of us can be as gifted as you, Jongwoon-ssi. Besides, you’ve never heard me sing.”

“Stop being so formal with me, please. You can call me hyung, I’m only four years older than you.” Jongwoon leans forward on his elbows. He looks a little flushed and he is closer to Kyuhyun than Kyuhyun would like. Not that he’s noticing. “Although, yeah. You’re right. I haven’t heard you sing before. Why is that?”

It must be a rhetorical question, Kyuhyun decides. Probably Jongwoon is tired out from his schedules and the alcohol is making him say things he wouldn’t normally. He decides to humour Jongwoon.

“You never asked, hyung.” The honorific slides over his tongue a lot more easily than he was expecting. Vaguely, Kyuhyun wonders just how dead he might be if the fans outside have any idea of what’s transpired between him and Jongwoon. Probably very, very dead.

His answer earns him a smack on the head.

“Ow! What the _fuck_?”

“That’s for being a smartass to your elder.”

Jongwoon smirks. Without warning, he frames Kyuhyun’s cheeks with his short, slender fingers. “You’re really cute, you know that?”

“Uh…” Kyuhyun thinks he should pull away now, but he sits stock still, waiting for Jongwoon to move. Tries not to think about how easy it would be to close the distance between them and kiss Jongwoon’s full lips. “Thanks?”

Just as quickly as Jongwoon touched his face, he drops his hands. Grins. “You’re welcome! Maybe next time we meet we can go somewhere a little more private and you can show me why you think you’re such a lousy singer.”

“Are… you asking me out on another date, hyung? Not that I didn’t enjoy tonight, it’s just that —”

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to give me another one of your lame excuses, Kyuhyun.” Jongwoon looks annoyed now, “You know what? The shy, coquettish act only works for so long with me. After that I just get pissed off. If you want to string some other guy along, go ahead. I get enough bullshit on a day to day basis without you adding more complications to the crap I have to deal with.”

“No, wait.” Kyuhyun doesn’t know why he does it; he grabs hold of Jongwoon’s wrist before he can stop himself. “That’s not fair, hyung! You’re the first guy who’s ever been so direct with me before, OK? I’m not used to being hit on like that … I don’t know how to act around you. Plus, you know. You’re _you_. Some big name rockstar, and I’m just a kid lawyer with a mortgage to pay and colleagues who like to leave me with all their work. How do I know you’re not just going to make me some name on your list and you won’t leave me for the next awkward nerd you come across?”

“Oh, Kyuhyun.” Jongwoon breaks into the widest, silliest smile. His fingers curl around Kyuhyun’s. Kyuhyun is aware of important things like breathing and air, but he doesn’t look away, because Jongwoon is all he can see. “I don’t have any lists, and I didn’t know it was like that. But you have to admit, it is kind of a buzzkill whenever you tell me you’d prefer to work over seeing _me_.”

“Well, somebody needs to keep you humble, hyung. We gotta make sure your head doesn’t get too big.” He knows he’s being very rude now, but Kyuhyun doesn’t think Jongwoon minds.

“Are you always this insolent?” Without waiting for a response, Jongwoon barrels on, “And you are not just another awkward nerd. You’re more interesting than all of the pretty boys who throw themselves at me. If I wanted fake and plastic, I’d find myself a Ken doll. Now, you’re coming out with me next week, no more buts.”

A gurgle of disbelief forces its way out of Kyuhyun’s mouth, robbing him of any smart comeback. Instead he nods violently, lets Jongwoon pull him into a too-tight hug. 

Kyuhyun thinks of Jongwoon’s smile for the whole duration of the taxi ride back to his apartment. If he doesn’t feel guilty about not going back to the office to get his paperwork, then that’s all down to Jongwoon’s bad influence.

Not that he’s complaining.

***

The next time they meet a fortnight later, it’s in a spare practice room in the rather cavernous interior at Jongwoon’s management company. Kyuhyun gets into the building in Gangnam by telling the doorman he’s here to see Jongwoon, only that doesn’t really work because all the crazy fans try it, although it does help that he’s dressed in his work clothes and holding a briefcase.

“You’re not trying to sue him or anything, are you?” A security guard asks from behind the shelter of an enormous desk at reception. Kyuhyun resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“No, but can you please check with him? I mean, all he said was to tell you that I was here to see him, and I understand you have to do a job, because there are weirdos out there who don’t understand things like boundaries and such, but come on. I’ve had a really long day at work, my boss is hounding me for someone else’s correspondence, and I’ve had a three hour long conference call —”

The guard holds up a hand. “Look, kid. I don’t care about your shitty job. Why don’t you just give me a name, huh? That’s all I need. If you’re on the list of approved visitors I’ll send you right up.”

Oh. Feeling rather deflated, Kyuhyun tells the guard his name, is issued with a security pass and given directions to the anonymous little room where he finds Jongwoon bent over a keyboard.

“Kyu! I was wondering when you’d get here!” Jongwoon scatters pens and random papers as he stands up to greet Kyuhyun. He seems to have been in the middle of trying to write a song, although it looks to Kyuhyun like Jongwoon’s been in here for quite a long time. His old t-shirt is torn and there are coffee stains on it. Kyuhyun also notes the ink stains on Jongwoon’s fingers and the fact that the other man doesn’t seem to be wearing any eyeliner this time. Nor is he in anything more exciting than a battered pair of jeans. Also, for some strange reason, Jongwoon is barefoot. Perhaps this is to aid in the creative process of writing songs, but Kyuhyun is no expert.

This Jongwoon is almost a thousand light-years away from the polished professional who Kyuhyun watched charm over five thousand people nearly a month ago. He doesn’t radiate any of the aggressive charisma of his onstage persona, but exudes a calm confidence that Kyuhyun finds compelling. Jongwoon beckons Kyuhyun over to an overstuffed sofa and drops into it with a deep sigh of relief.

“I’ve been working here since last night,” he says, closing his eyes. “Managed to sleep for about four hours in the middle of the day, but the president wants me to have at least five new songs for the new rookie group they’re debuting at the end of the month, so I have to live in the studio until the songs are done. That’s why I asked you to meet me here. I’m sorry if it’s been inconvenient, but I really wanted to see you again.”

Kyuhyun drops down next to him. “Seriously? You have to stay here until then, hyung? Surely that’s breaking one of the labour laws?”

“Why don’t you find out which one it is,” Jongwoon mutters, “so I can go home and have a proper meal. I’m starving.”

Well, this is an area in which Kyuhyun has a little bit of expertise, having spent countless late nights at the office. He sits up straight and digs his mobile out of his briefcase.

“You’re in luck. I happen to know this great delivery service. The food’s pretty average, but they get it here quick. What do you feel like having?”

Jongwoon opens one eye and considers Kyuhyun thoughtfully. “It’d be crass if I said you, right? Because your glasses and that suit and tie are really doing it for me at the moment.”

“I’ll let you get away with that because you’re clearly delirious and not making good decisions, but you’re lucky I’m not suing you for sexual harassment.” Kyuhyun turns away so Jongwoon won’t see him blush, fiddles with his glasses. He picks up his phone and scrolls down his contact list. “Why don’t we get Chinese? Fried rice and kungpao chicken OK with you?”

“Whatever.” Jongwoon waves a hand. “Just as long as it’s hot.”

The food, as it turns out, is much better than Kyuhyun remembers. They finish everything in near silence, Jongwoon too busy wolfing down his meal and Kyuhyun too fascinated by the various instruments scattered about the room to make proper conversation. Having finished his food, Kyuhyun picks up a guitar and strums a few chords, before moving on and sitting himself in front of the keyboard.

“Can you play?” Jongwoon asks. He’s finished his rice and stretches out on the sofa, looking quietly content.

“A little.” Kyuhyun plays some scales, then a bit of Beethoven and some Chopin. Stuff that he had to learn at music classes because his father was paying some teacher lots of money and Kyuhyun had make sure his father got a good return on his investment. “I’ve never been good at composition, though.”

He plays a short snatch of a ballad song from one of Jongwoon’s albums. “Like I said, I was lead vocal in my high school band, so I was a bit lazy about my technique. I can follow a melody, but I’m not good with technical stuff.”

“Hmm.” Jongwoon crosses to him, perches next to Kyuhyun on the narrow bench. “Well, you did promise to sing for me the last time we saw each other, didn’t you? Try something now.”

Kyuhyun hasn’t sung for an audience for over ten years, and now he’s being asked to sing for someone who does it for a living? His fingers hover over the keyboard as he tries to figure out what song to play. “I’m really not that good, hyung.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Just sing me something, Kyu. I promise I won’t laugh.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you won’t be able to help yourself.” Kyuhyun’s mind is still blank. “I only sing in the shower now, so I could be really off-key.”

Jongwoon clicks his tongue, pats his hand on Kyuhyun’s thigh. “My break can’t be that long, and I don’t want to waste the rest of the night watching you pretend that you aren’t interested in trying, so please stop throwing up all these reasons why you think you’re not good enough and just sing one damn song?”

Kyuhyun looks down at the keyboard, at Jongwoon’s hand on his leg. Suddenly, he finds his fingers flying over the keys as he plays the intro to a song he was listening to on his MP3 player on the way over. 

“Yah, isn’t that from — I know this!” Jongwoon yells, just before Kyuhyun opens his mouth and sings the first verse of the song in a quiet, hesitant voice. He keeps his eyes on the keys, concentrates on getting the key changes just right, lets the song run through him. It’s a slow, melancholic ballad about lost love and rejecting the world, and Kyuhyun is surprised to find out that he knows all the words. He closes his eyes, lets his instinct take over. 

For so many years, Kyuhyun has been careful not to revive the memories of his short-lived career with his band, too scared that he would start to deviate from the path he and his father had carefully plotted out together. Choosing the uncertain trajectory of a musician had never been a serious alternative to the stability of a well-paying job in a slightly less interesting industry. But now that Jongwoon has offered Kyuhyun the chance to indulge in his former passion, Kyuhyun finds it just as intoxicating as he remembered.

Perhaps even more so.

Kyuhyun feels Jongwoon shifting beside him and it isn’t until he hears Jongwoon’s low growl of a voice alongside his own that he realises that they’re singing together. Kyuhyun sings the bridge, Jongwoon takes the chorus. They combine on the second verse of the song, Jongwoon’s steadier vocals helping Kyuhyun find his confidence. Hidden away for so long, Kyuhyun’s voice is slightly pitchy, but he manages not to sound too off-key, and matches Jongwoon’s rich voice with his own gentle delivery. Kyuhyun knows he is smiling like an idiot now, and he doesn’t care. 

They look at each other just as Jongwoon sings the last part of the chorus, smoothing the song out elegantly, while Kyuhyun follows him, ending on a slightly higher pitch. For a moment, they are silent. Then Jongwoon laughs, sounding amazed.

“You’re incredible,” he tells Kyuhyun earnestly. There is no sign of insincerity in his expression, only fervent belief. “Who the hell are you trying to fool, Cho Kyuhyun? You tell me you’re not that good and then you go and blow me away with that song? Do you know how long it took us to record, just because I wasn’t happy with the way it was arranged? You managed to sing it near perfect on your first go!”

Of course the song Kyuhyun picked had to be Jongwoon’s signature ballad. The one he won his first music show title with. The one that everyone associates with him. Kyuhyun doesn’t know why his brain decided that one would be perfect to play for Jongwoon. He’s not even sure what to say about Jongwoon’s reaction.

“I … honestly I’ve been too out of practice, Jongwoon-ssi,” Kyuhyun protests. “Anyway, you were helping me. My voice isn’t that special.”

Now Jongwoon looks angry. “Who the _fuck_ said that? I’ve never heard a voice like yours before. You sound unbelievable, Kyuhyun. And I’ve heard a lot of voices in my line of work, trust me.”

“I’m sure that’s what you say to everyone.” Kyuhyun hates this. All of it. He hates that Jongwoon is staring at him and speaking as though everything is says is the gospel truth. He hates that part of him agrees with Jongwoon’s assessment; his voice is in remarkably good condition, given the hiatus of so many years. And Kyuhyun absolutely hates that the way Jongwoon says all these things makes his heart beat faster, pounding out a steady tempo of excitement and anticipation.

Shit, he’s just a lawyer, and not even a very exciting one at that. Why is Jongwoon saying all these things to him? Why is Kyuhyun even falling for it?

“Kyuhyun.” Jongwoon tugs on his sleeve, his mouth set in a determined line, “I don’t say that to anyone.”

He takes hold of Kyuhyun’s hand. Brushes his lips against Kyuhyun’s knuckles. “Believe me.”

Kyuhyun’s heart just about leaps into his mouth.

“Yes.” He murmurs. 

_Yes, just this once._

Maybe it’s because it’s late, and they’re both tired and not thinking straight. Or perhaps it’s the way Kyuhyun’s first song in a decade has made him feel more liberated than anything else he’s done in a long time. It might be because Jongwoon is pulling Kyuhyun close and despite not having been home for the past day and a half, he smells amazing, all slumberous musk and heat. Perhaps it is all of these reasons, or none of them at all, only the primal attraction they’ve felt around each other since that first night at the concert.

They kiss like it’s the most natural thing in the world, lips and tongues pressed and sliding against each other, fingers in each other’s hair. Kyuhyun hasn’t kissed anyone for months, and Jongwoon is more nervous than he was expecting, but it doesn’t matter. They kiss until they have to break for air, and then Jongwoon still won’t let Kyuhyun go until one of Jongwoon’s managers blunders in and finds them pressed up against the piano bench, their skin flushed, Kyuhyun’s glasses half off, and his tie wrapped around Jongwoon’s hand.

The week after, Jongwoon makes Kyuhyun record a demo version of a song he wrote after that night with Kyuhyun. It’s a duet, and when they’re in the studio recording, Kyuhyun can’t take his eyes off Jongwoon while they’re singing into the same microphone. Jongwoon notices his staring, covers Kyuhyun’s hand with his own, laces their fingers together and holds on.

It is then that Kyuhyun thinks that maybe his plan for his perfect life isn’t quite as suitable as he once thought it was.

Maybe that’s Jongwoon’s fault as well.

***

“When do I get to see you again?” Kyuhyun asks, a month or so after he’s finally accepted the fact that he is actually in a relationship with Kim Jongwoon. It’s not been the fairytale romance all the dramas and movies seem to promise, but Kyuhyun thinks they’re doing OK. Never mind that their dates always seem to be attended by several groups of diehard fans, who still think Kyuhyun is Jongwoon’s accountant and who press their hands and noses hard up against the glass when they’re trying to eat at a swanky French restaurant that Kyuhyun’s been wanting to try for months, or who try and pester him with questions about Jongwoon’s new album after they spot him going in and out of Jongwoon’s agency.

If Jongwoon is upset that Kyuhyun won’t hold his hand in public, he says nothing about it. They do enough of that in private anyway, away from prying eyes. Kyuhyun also says he has an interest in staying alive, not liking to think about what would happen if the fans found out his real relationship with Jongwoon. Jongwoon tells him he’s just being overdramatic.

Kyuhyun’s demo track that he recorded with Jongwoon has been handed to some senior figures in the company, apparently, though he hasn’t been stupid enough to hope for anything. Yet, some treacherous part of his brain can’t help but wonder what the reaction was, whether a miracle might happen.

Apart from the miracle of Jongwoon actually being his, that is. Kyuhyun doesn’t think he’ll get over it in this lifetime. But Jongwoon’s been too busy for him the last week or so; having to record his own songs and write melodies for others has taken its toll on his schedule. And, to be fair, Kyuhyun shouldn’t be making this call on company time, not when there’s a huge presentation to prepare for a client whose project they’ve been working on for the past six months.

But Jongwoon’s always been able to tempt Kyuhyun into breaking a few rules here and there. Luckily, Kyuhyun’s ahead of his work.

“I know you’re really busy now, but I miss you,” he says, allowing himself the liberty of being honest with his feelings. He’ll blame that one on Jongwoon as well.

“I know.” Jongwoon sounds frustrated. “I’m trying to get out of this meeting I have tomorrow night with the label execs. They want to talk about a new marketing plan or something, and it won’t be anything I’ve not heard a thousand times before. Help me escape, Kyu.”

A spark of guilt makes Kyuhyun sit up straight. “That sounds important, though. Maybe we can reschedule?”

He doesn’t want to, of course, but Jongwoon’s career is important, and Kyuhyun still can’t totally manage to find it in himself to blow off work the way Jongwoon does sometimes. Then again, he’s no rockstar.

“No.” Jongwoon’s tone is firm. “It’s nothing that can’t wait, honestly. They just want me to approve their silly little idea to release an extra EP before the full album gets launched. I’ve told them they should package it as one deal.”

“Huh?” Kyuhyun’s not heard of anything related to this before; Jongwoon’s been pretty open about sharing his songs with Kyuhyun and he is sure it would’ve been mentioned. Perhaps he’s not been paying enough attention. Sometimes Kyuhyun finds himself just listening to the sound of Jongwoon’s voice when he speaks, not his actual words. He always feels rather silly afterwards. Like some teenager caught spying on his secret crush.

“I’ll tell you about it later.”

They talk about mundane things for a while. Kyuhyun complains about a colleague who always overshares about his various health problems, Jongwoon thinks the new rookie group that’s about to debut has too many members, both of them agree that the referee’s decision to send Rooney off in last night’s Champions League semi-final was rubbish. Then Jongwoon wonders aloud where they might go for tomorrow’s date.

“The manager of that bar in Hongdae says we can’t go over there anymore; my fans keep scaring away the regulars and we don’t drink enough between the two of us to cover them. There’s no way I’m staying in here for another night, either. I have nightmares about the recording rooms.”

Kyuhyun sniggers.

“That’s not funny, Kyu! In my dreams they keep locking me in the studio after everyone goes home. And then the microphones try to eat me. I think I should stop drinking so many lattes, maybe the caffeine really is driving me crazy. Plus, I think my tortoises are missing me…”

“Jongwoon-ssi,” Kyuhyun interrupts, suddenly impulsive (and not a little perplexed by Jongwoon’s sudden topic change), “I know where we can go tomorrow night.”

“Oh?”

“Come over to my place. I’ll come home early and cook you something. Your stalk- er, your fans don’t know where I live, right? It’s perfect, you can come over and just chill. I’ll buy some beer.”

“Can you cook?” Jongwoon asks, a little doubtful. “You told me when you were in university you burnt a hole in your saucepan while you were making ramen!”

“That was four years ago!” Kyuhyun says indignantly. “Look, stop arguing. Just come over. I miss you, and it’ll be a lot less stressful for both of us.”

Jongwoon laughs. “Yes, sir! Should I bring anything with me? Roses? Handcuffs? Questionable DVDs?”

“Ugh. No. Hyung, you have such weird taste in porn. Just bring yourself,” Kyuhyun tries not to sound too excited. That would be undignified. “I only want you.”

“Likewise.”

It is only after Jongwoon hangs up that Kyuhyun realises he has no idea what he could possibly cook, and no idea of whether he can actually cook ramen without burning down his building.

***

Kyuhyun orders more Chinese delivery for dinner the next night.

“Don’t say anything,” he warns, when Jongwoon shows up twenty minutes later than the time they agreed on. There was an incident with a particularly clingy group of fans following his car and he only managed to shake them off by deploying one of his management team to a local coffee shop dressed in one of Jongwoon’s old jackets and beanie.

“Was I going to say anything? Maybe I’m just glad you haven’t burnt more pots.” Jongwoon counters easily, walking in as though he owns the place. It must be an occupational thing. He looks around Kyuhyun’s small apartment, notes the untidy sprawl of books and papers decorating one corner of the living room, the Xbox in front of the flat-screen TV and the vintage video game posters on the wall. Whistles. “You’ve got a nice place here. I’m hardly ever at home so I don’t get to decorate like you do.” 

Kyuhyun snorts. “Stop being so polite. I know it’s a bit of pigsty. I’m too busy to clean it during the week, and I used to try and make an effort on the weekends until I met some rockstar who makes it a point of taking up all my spare time with his crazy schemes.”

“I wonder who that asshole is,” Jongwoon shrugs out of his coat and throws it on Kyuhyun’s threadbare sofa. He looks so tired, Kyuhyun thinks, the dark shadows under his eyes accentuating the paleness of his skin. Those assholes at his company work him too damn hard, just because he’s the only real megastar they’ve ever produced. On an impulse, he envelops Jongwoon in a hug that somehow leads into a kiss, messy and urgent, which sends sparks of electricity shooting down his spine and out his fingertips.

When they finally pull away, Jongwoon looks amused. Kyuhyun tries not to be fixated by how red his lips are. “You missed me that much, huh? I’m sorry it took me so long to get over here. I’ve been thinking about you the whole day.”

Usually, Kyuhyun would blush and turn away. Mention something safe like how the food is getting cold. Instead he smiles, grabs hold of Jongwoon’s hand and leads him to the dining table, which he’s taken painstaking care of setting with proper cutlery and wine glasses. He might be only serving Jongwoon jajangmyeon and deep-fried shrimp, but Kyuhyun is determined to make it look classy. 

Outside, the city lights blink at them. Kyuhyun only sees Jongwoon, thinks of the first time they met and how much things have changed since the first time he googled Kim Jongwoon and thought him just another pretty face idol.

“Me, too.”

Afterwards, full of food and warmed by a nice bottle of Burgundy, Kyuhyun puts on a DVD and lets Jongwoon curl up against him. The film is an old Kurosawa flick that Kyuhyun picked up on a whim one day, which Jongwoon says he hasn’t seen it before. He rests his head against Kyuhyun’s shoulder, his fingers resting easily on Kyuhyun’s thigh, tracing undecipherable patterns that make Kyuhyun bite his lip and resist the urge to moan out loud.

Just as the film gets exciting, rain starts to fall, battering against the windows of Kyuhyun’s apartment and drowning out the movie. Kyuhyun makes an annoyed noise in his throat, and Jongwoon looks up, sees that it’s close to twelve already.

“I should go. I’ve got this radio interview early tomorrow morning. The managers will kill me if I’m not in time for that. Don’t you have an important presentation to get ready for as well? I’ll give the driver a call and have him pick me up. Argh, but the movie’s finally getting interesting too! Maybe we can get away to Jeju next time, forget about trying to sneak around…”

Some devil in Kyuhyun’s head starts to tempt him. He fights against it with his remaining sense of propriety, but it’s hard when Jongwoon fits so perfectly against his body and all he can think about is how they really should be somewhere more comfortable, like his bed.

It strikes Kyuhyun then that he really, _really_ wants Jongwoon in his bed. They’ve never had the chance for anything more intimate than a hurried make-out session in the back of Jongwoon’s car before, and free moments like these are so few and far between. Kyuhyun thinks he’s waited long enough.

(Kyuhyun’s not sure when he got this demanding. Jongwoon brings out the selfish child in him, he supposes.)

“No. Stay.” He says, when Jongwoon fumbles for his phone. They twist and turn on the sofa, gasping and laughing, and Kyuhyun suddenly finds himself lying on top of Jongwoon, one hand holding Jongwoon’s mobile, the other pinning Jongwoon’s wrists above his head. 

“Stay,” Kyuhyun repeats, tossing the phone on the floor. He kisses Jongwoon, tasting the richness of the wine, the sweet tang of the noodles, the deeper hint of Jongwoon. The heat in his belly grows, his need for Jongwoon becomes more urgent. “Stay with me tonight, hyung. You need to rest. Call the radio station from here tomorrow. I’ll say I’m sick. We’ll spend the whole day together. What about that?”

Jongwoon doesn’t fight another kiss, groaning when Kyuhyun starts kissing along his jaw, down his neck. “I thought — I thought you were the type who couldn’t leave your work, Cho Kyuhyun. And now you’re skipping work for me?”

“Yes,” Kyuhyun frees Jongwoon’s hands. Slides his palms under Jongwoon’s shirt, desperately wanting to feel more, touch more. “See what you’ve done to me, Jongwoon-ssi? I didn’t even want to go to your silly concert, and now you’ve been such a bad influence on me, I just can’t control myself when I’m around you.”

“Brat.” Jongwoon says, without any real venom. “No, no… wait. Kyu.”

He pushes Kyuhyun off, his face flushed red. Then he stands and finds his coat. Kyuhyun’s heart almost falls, disappointment threatening to overwhelm him, when he sees the square package in Jongwoon’s hand. Jongwoon walks back and settles himself in Kyuhyun’s lap.

“Look at your face,” Jongwoon teases, pinches Kyuhyun’s cheek. “You really thought I would leave?”

Kyuhyun doesn’t get the chance to reply, because Jongwoon shoves the package at him. “Open it.”

He does, and yelps in shock. “Hyung!”

It’s a CD. A CD with their names on it. The song that they recorded together all those weeks ago. Kyuhyun’s almost forgotten. He looks at Jongwoon, full of wonder, hardly daring to believe his eyes.

“Surprise! This was the EP I was talking about yesterday. Obviously that’s not how it’s going to look, and we’ll probably have to clean the vocals up a bit, but I played it for the execs and they love it. There’ll be a few more hurdles to jump over before we can launch it properly, but I thought you should be the first to see the mockup.”

Jongwoon looks anxious for some reason. He starts fiddling with Kyuhyun’s shirt, undoing the buttons. “Do you like it?”

Kyuhyun can’t find the words in him. He shifts, motions for Jongwoon to get up, which he does, his expression confused. Then Kyuhyun pulls on his sleeve, leads them both into his bedroom. Closes the door.

Pushes Jongwoon down onto the bed. Crawls on top.

“Thank you.” Kyuhyun finally manages, after he’s forgotten how to stop staring at Jongwoon. “You didn’t have to.”

How is he supposed to properly thank Jongwoon for giving him back his childhood dream? For believing in him that much to suggest including their duet on his new album? Kyuhyun is dizzy with happiness, hardly daring to trust what is happening. Suddenly the well-ordered blueprint for his life seems to have been torn away, and an exciting new horizon stretches out in front of his eyes.

“I wanted to, and you’re amazing.” Jongwoon’s hands are in Kyuhyun’s hair, pulling him in for a kiss. Their lips touch.

Kyuhyun smirks. Knows that this is exactly where he needs to be, and cannot stop marvelling at the miracles that have occurred, all because he decided to go to a concert. Now he feels reckless, in control, and totally under Kim Jongwoon’s spell.

“Jongwoon-ssi,” he whispers, hears the thunder rumble above them. “I don’t think you’re going to be able to leave this place for the foreseeable future.”

Jongwoon doesn’t argue. He just pulls Kyuhyun down on top of him.


End file.
